Yesterday I hit a block. I tried repeatedly to start a scene, and just couldn't make it happen. My people (characters) thought the scene was boring and they wanted nothing to do with it. They were right.

What finally pulled me out of my state of stumped was Shirley Jump‘s Rule of Six. I'm taking her course right now, and I highly recommend it. Basically, making a list of six ideas for a scene forces you to dig deeper than the easy (read: uninspired) ideas that come off the top of your head. You can apply the rule of six to any part of your manuscript (e.g. scene goals, character motivation, book title, you name it).

So, instead of stewing in my head, I finally sat down, made a list of six goals for the scene, and came up with something totally unexpected. The new scene is not only more interesting (my people cheered), but it set up several future scenes where I'll introduce a new character, and begin weaving in background for turning the book into a series.

Such a simple tool, yet so powerful. The key is sitting down to do it.

Jenna slid her foot into the spiky heels and stood up. The world looked different from her new height. She towered over the saleswoman and looked down upon the peons rummaging through the sale racks. In these shoes, she could do anything, be anyone. Her confidence soared.

Chin up, she strode forward with the grace and dignity of a princess, flipped her long hair back, and smiled at a cute guy as she…wobbled on the miniscule heel and landed on her ass between the sneakers and the baby shoes. So much for grace and dignity.

I'm a serial committer. Like Einstein, but without the astounding genius. What the heck is that, you ask? A serial committer is someone who gives themselves completely to what they're working on…until they move on to something else. Basically, it means I function best in a project-oriented environment.

I realized this about myself fairly early on, and sought to find jobs that demanded that type of temperament. Programming. Yep. Teaching. Yep. Manufacturing. Double yep. I even got my certification in Project Management.

The thing was, as much as I love moving every few years (you know, that pesky Air Force thing), it makes career advancement difficult. I didn't seriously consider writing until I quit my job, got bored, and remembered how much I liked crafting prose.

Turns out writing is a great fit (well, except that I'm not getting paid yet)–since it is by nature project-based–and even meets some of my other ideal career requirements:

Keeps my brain actively engaged and challenged

Requires me to constantly learn new things

Uses creative problem-solving

Career advancement is tied to performance and skill (combined with determination and a lot of luck)

I can work when I want, where I want, and wear what I want. (Like working 7-1 on your couch in pajamas? No problem.)

I work for myself. Like any self-employed person, I (will) have clients rather than bosses. Yes, you still have to give them what they want, but I'm in charge of when and how I do it, as long as I meet their requirements and deadlines.

It's fun, and I'd do it for no pay at all. (Good thing, since it could be a while. <g>)

What are your ideal job requirements? If you're a writer, what makes it the right career for you?

—

The Daily Squirrel: gum

The boy on the other side of the locker door stared her down and sucked in his gum with a series of loud pops. Kate flinched with each ear-splitting crack, but her gaze didn't waver in spite of her legs of jelly.

“Hand over the money, Four-eyes,” Dean said with a sneer.

Without looking away from him, she shook her head. “No.” The bullying had gone on long enough. Someone had to stand up to Dean and his gang. Fear prickled her neck, and set an erratic beat within her chest, but she stood firm. “No.”

His gun lay only inches from his fingertips, but he couldn't reach it. Sweat slid past his ear as he relaxed his shoulder and stretched his arm until his finger grazed the muzzle. Sending up a silent plea of desperation, he willed the gun to come to him.

It didn't obey.

Arnold cried out in frustration, his breath coming in short gasps. His head throbbed and the room swirled around him as his shoulder protested his efforts. He couldn't remember why he needed the gun, but he knew it was urgent.

I turned 25 today…well, in my head. I may be a bit older than that, but really who cares, right?

Here are a few others who share my birthday:

Daryl Hannah – We're both blonde, but she's about a foot taller and several million richer than me.

Brendan Fraser – You know, the hottie who turned dorky after cavorting with mummies.

Charles Pillsbury – Who doesn't love a good crescent roll?

Katarina Witt – We were both born in Germany, but she's fluent in the language, and, alas, I can only muddle through it.

Ozzy Osbourne – Neither of us is a vegetarian, though I'm not partial to doves or bats myself.

Memorable events on this day (besides my own birth, of course):

1818: Illinois became the 21st State in the Union – I've been there

1828: Andrew Jackson was elected President – Never met him

1965: The Beatles released the album “Rubber Soul” – The only song I recognized by title, besides “Michelle”, was “Drive My Car”, which wasn't even on the American version of the album.

Happy birthday to all the December 3rd babies.

—

The Daily Squirrel: wish

Eight candles stuck out from the fluffy white frosting, already dripping wax from their flaming tops.

“Make a wish,” her mom encouraged, holding the camera up to her eye.

Daisy squeezed her eyes shut and pictured her heart's desire vividly in her mind. Opening her eyes, she blew out the twelve candles in one breath of air. Poof! Everyone in the room disappeared and she was left alone with the palm tree-shaped cake. Daisy gasped, and then her mouth spread into a slow smile.

By nature, I'm stuck in a chair all day in front of the computer, or brainstorming on paper, but the irony is that some of my best ideas come while I'm in motion.

If I'm stuck on a scene, or struggling for new ideas, I've found the best way to open my brain is to go for a run. Other mindless activities work as well, but running is my personal favorite, and it has the added bonus of burning some calories.

I think part of the value is that while running, I can't focus too hard on anything. My mind wanders, and ideas flit in and out, but my subconscious mind is more active. I'm not “forcing it”.

The only drawback is capturing the ideas before they flit too far away. I use my handy iPhone recording feature, but I used to repeat the idea to myself all the way home, or try to spin it into something larger and harder to forget.

My CP is constantly harping and nagging…ahem, I mean gently reminding me about the need to infuse my writing with more emotion. And, she's right. In my head, the characters are going through such turmoil and angst, but I often forget to pour that emotion onto the page for the reader to see.

Some of this probably stems from the dominance of my left brain. Hello? Programmer/engineer here. I once looked back through an old diary that I kept sporadically in middle and high school. It read like a catalog of events rather than an emotion-filled life. BO-RING.

Fictionalized example: “XY [the boy I had a crush on for five years who never noticed my existence] started dating XX today. I broke my finger at soccer practice, and then we had lasagna for dinner.” Seriously? Aren't teenaged girls supposed to be the queens of drama?

Good grief. What am I, a robot? When I think back on those moments, many of them were very emotional for me. Why the heck didn't I put it on paper? I'm sure I could analyze the reasons for you ad nauseam (yes that's spelled right), but I'll spare you.

What my diary should have been like: “XY smiled at me yesterday when I loaned him a piece of paper in Chem. He's so gorgeous. I wish I was brave enough to flirt with him, but he only likes the popular girls. My heart cracked in two when I found out he's dating XX. I wanted to throw up because she's such a bitch and he deserves better than her.”

Sigh. All I know is that I'm now combing through Counting on You and Floater, looking for those important scenes where my writing fell flat.

My stomach is clenching at the thought, my head spinning with ideas as I eagerly scroll through the pages…

—

The Daily Squirrel: wedding ring

Mike pawed through the dresser drawer like a dog digging a fresh hole. The bride's ring had to be in there somewhere. Sweat dripped down his forehead and stung his eyes. Ben had trusted him for the first time in years, and he'd screwed it up. Again. Socks and underwear flew through the air, littering the floor and the bed as Mike dug deeper. Finally, his hand closed around a small, velvet box stuck against the back of the drawer. He let out the breath he'd been holding and collapsed to the floor, the box tucked tightly against his pounding heart. Even if he had to sleep with it, the ring would not leave his sight again until he put it into the groom's hand.

Today I got my first agent request for a partial (first 3 chapters & synopsis). Insert “woo hoo” and a happy dance here. Very exciting! The timing seems serendipitous since I recently blogged about revising the manuscript for just such an event. I didn't expect to have to jump into it today, but I was more than happy to tackle it. 😉

In the scheme of things, a request doesn't mean publication is imminent. I know plenty of writers who've been getting requests for partials and completes for years, and are not yet published. Still, I'm excited because my query letter generated some interest, and that's the first step.

Knowing that I'm doing my best to get in the game keeps me motivated to move forward, and forces me to do the hard work (like revisions). I learn more about the art and business of writing every day, and when the call does come, I plan to be ready.

—

The Daily Squirrel: goodbye

The ballpoint pen left ink blots on the paper as she wrote out words of goodbye. Or badbye. If badbye were a word, that would more accurately describe this parting. Badbye to the angry outbursts and sarcastic remarks. Badbye to the forgotten anniversaries and birthdays. Badbye to the whole damn waste of three years. Her heart lifted and she smiled. “Badbye, Gary.”

Gwen Hernandez is the author of Scrivener For Dummies, romantic suspense (Men of Steele series), and Productivity Tools for Writers, and a contributor to Author In Progress. She teaches Scrivener to students all over the world through her online courses, private training, and in-person workshops.

Gwen Hernandez is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com.

Affiliate links from Amazon and other retailers help make this site possible. Thank you for your support!

Scrivener is either a registered trademark or trademark of Literature and Latte LTD in the United States and/or other countries.

Apple, the Apple logo, Mac, iPhone, iPad, and iBooks are trademarks of Apple Inc., registered in the U.S. and other countries. App Store is a service mark of Apple Inc. IOS is a trademark or registered trademark of Cisco in the U.S. and other countries and is used under license.

Microsoft and Windows are either registered trademarks or trademarks of Microsoft Corporation in the United States and/or other countries.